They lived frugally, using their savings to support Daniel and me.
Daniel had no mother, so whenever we faced difficulties, my parents stepped in to help raise the children.
Even Daniel’s current law firm was started with money my parents raised—selling their large house to move into a smaller one.
He forgot all of that sacrifice.
In his eyes, my father’s life wasn’t even worth fifty thousand.
Twelve years into our marriage, I finally realized Daniel never loved me.
Love shapes everything in a person, but so does contempt.
When I stepped out of the restaurant, Daniel’s car was still parked out front.
The girl in red sat in the passenger seat, pouting as he carefully applied her lipstick. She laughed, leaned in, and kissed him.
I watched through the windshield, their playfulness cutting deep.
When Daniel saw me, his smile froze, his face unashamed.
The girl glanced my way, curious, and at that moment, he floored the accelerator, driving straight past me.
It had rained earlier, leaving a puddle at the curb.
The tires splashed dirty water all over me.
I returned home drenched and shaken. My son, Aaron, rushed toward me, his little arms hovering mid-air.
“Mom, what happened? Did you fall?”
My heart twisted violently.
I crouched and pulled my boy tight into my arms.
My mother, hearing him, quickly set aside her knitting and hurried into the bathroom. She came back with a half-damp towel and pressed it into my hands.
“Didn’t you go to dinner with Daniel? How did you end up like this?”
Grief weighed heavy, but I forced a smile. “I slipped on the way back.”
After I’d cleaned myself up, she drew me aside and whispered, “What are Daniel’s plans for Mr. Carter’s case?”
Remembering his words before storming off, I hesitated.
“He… he said he’d sue.”
“A lawsuit, then. That’s good. We need to give Mr. Carter an explanation.”
My mother nodded, pulled a bank card from her pocket, and pressed it into my hand.
“This is the little money your dad and I have saved all these years. You’ll need plenty for this. Take it now. If you run into trouble, tell us.”
“Mom, I’ll head home first. Your dad’s waiting for me to cook dinner.”
She patted my hand, turned, and walked out.
I chased her to the door, card in hand, but it slammed shut, trapping me inside.
The bank card in my hand felt like fire, searing every nerve in my body.
I want a divorce!